


Split Into Pairs

by anotherbuskitten



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Asexual Sirius Black, Conflict Resolution, Dysfunctional Relationships, Gen, Lie Low At Lupin's, Past Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 16:42:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12845265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherbuskitten/pseuds/anotherbuskitten
Summary: there's always been something wrong with their friendship, some seed hiding in the shadows, just waiting for one of them to slip up and tear it all apart





	Split Into Pairs

**Author's Note:**

> this had several almost endings but the stupid fucks just kept getting into more arguments

The problem was it had never been just Remus and Sirius, Padfoot and Moony before. It had been James and Sirius, and Remus and Peter, or James and Remus, and Sirius and Peter. They’d never put Sirius and Remus into a duo – there were four of them after all and no one ever thought it would be a good idea to stick the two angriest members together.

But now they had no choice but to hold tight lest they fall back into their separate lonely oblivions.

It wasn’t, of course, that they hadn’t been friends. Or that they hadn’t loved each other as brothers. Or that they wouldn’t risk everything to save the other. Just that they did it from a distance, else they’d trade blows with the same frequency as they did laughs.

But Remus loved Sirius and Sirius was the only one left so when he turned up in late June with rain dripping off him and a crazed look in his eyes Remus didn’t think twice before welcoming him inside.

And Sirius loved Remus so as soon as he’d given him Dumbledore’s message; as soon as he’d brought his world tumbling down around him for the – what was it, the fifth time now? – he transformed back and tried to leave his only friend in peace.

But there wasn’t any peace now – there couldn’t be until it was really over – Remus reminds him when he catches up with Padfoot ten days later.

 

So they’re caught together in Remus’ small home and to be fair there’s no one left alive they’d rather be sharing space with, except Harry.

Just them and the fights they should have any time between twenty years and six months ago.

James and Peter always kept them from fighting so the only confession they’ve let into the air thus far is that they believed in the other’s guilt so easily because they wanted it to be them. It still broke their hearts but it was a lesser pain than it being Peter.

That’s forgiven, if only because it’s too mutual not to be.

There are other fights that don’t need airing:

Remus doesn’t need to tell Sirius that he’s never forgiven him for sending Snape to the willow.

Sirius doesn’t need to tell Remus that regardless of how not close they were he would have visited if their places had been reversed. Even if only to spit in his face.

Remus didn’t need to say that he hated Sirius for never managing to really break ties with his family.

Sirius didn’t need to say that he hated Remus for always following Dumbledore’s orders without question.

None of those big fiery arguments that they would both have revelled in when they were students needed to be talked through but rather the little, pointless, held over, stupid grudges.

“Hey,” Remus thinks of saying while boiling the kettle, “Do you remember when you laughed at me for getting worried about spilling ink on my homework in second year?”

Or Sirius thinks, “Why did you always mock me when I wouldn’t wear dirty clothes?” When Remus is coming back from work.

And every time Remus sees Sirius wasting the hot water scrubbing his already clean hands he wants to ask, “How do you still not understand being poor when you’ve been homeless _twice_?”

 

But one day Sirius stretches after dinner like he’s going to transform but instead he’s just holding in the words; “Why did you hug James and Peter on the train for fifth year but not me?”

And Remus’ first reaction is to laugh, even though he’s got more than enough of his own petty grudges bottled up. But he calms down and Sirius is just watching calmly and waiting for Remus’ answer like he’s laughing at anything else.

“Well why didn’t you mail me? You ran off to James’ and you sent letters to Pete but I had to hear from them in throwaway lines. You didn’t think I would have wanted to know?”

“I ran away on the fucking full moon, Remus, I didn’t want to make that day any more stressful for you.”

Remus laughs again, “That’s crap and you know it. Anyway it would have cheered me up!” He jeers at his last friend, “I always wanted –

“My family wiped off the planet, I KNOW! I think you just want everyone to be as lonely as you are.”

“Me?! I wasn’t lonely, Sirius, my family actually loved me! You were the one who thought sending curses in the mail was normal.”

“See there – that’s what I mean! You could never understand that there were different ways of loving people.”

“DEATH THREATS AREN’T LOVE SIRIUS!”

“WELL IS IT REALLY THAT BAD IF I PRETENDED THEY WERE? I COULDN’T WANT A PROPER FAMILY?”

“YEAH IT IS _THAT_ BAD! WHAT IF LILY HAD PRETENDED SNAPE CALLING HER MUDBLOOD WAS JUST AN AFFECTIONATE NICKNAME?”

“THAT’S…that’s not the same thing.”

Remus is about to say something – probably about how Sirius should have grown out of all this by now – when he takes stock of his friend’s face and that moments pause is enough time for Sirius to transform into Padfoot and run out the back door.

Remus has a niggling feeling that he is supposed to go after him or at least call out. He doesn’t; he’s still stuck on how young _Sirius_ looks, which is a stupid thing to think because Sirius was always mistaken for the oldest amongst them.

 

One might think that after a conversation that good things would have, if not improved, then at least eased a little.

That’s what Remus had thought.

It’s apparent fairly quickly that Sirius doesn’t agree. For the first few days – or is it hours? – he’s the sort of cordial that Remus knows means he’s afraid.

A few times Remus catches him staring out of the window longingly. He honestly isn’t sure if he should let Sirius go; maybe they’d both be happier that way.

Then his mood changes abruptly to something similar to anger; picking fights until they’re both shouting loud enough to scare the neighbouring birds from their trees.

All those little things they’d been holding back when they began sharing space are out in the open.

Remus isn’t exactly…surprised by Sirius’ complaints. Sirius has always been noticeably weird about cleanliness; honestly he would have expected that to be the first argument and not some stupid half-remembered slight.

He doubts that his complaining is any more unexpected to Sirius. Remus mostly brings up the things Sirius wastes – water or food, or space if he’s feeling particularly cruel that day.

The first time he calls his best friend a waste of space the fighting has already progressed too far for either of them to notice. The second time goes differently.

Sirius’ mouth is already open to fire back when it registers on his face; his forehead wrinkles and his eyes shutter. He snaps his mouth shut and turns away – not quick enough for Remus to miss the words hit home.

Not that he’d been aiming for them to hurt. Had he? He loves Sirius as a brother, closer to him than his own heart – and if he’d really not wanted to hurt him he wouldn’t have used the same insults he’d heard from howlers in their youth.

It would have been too lucky for Sirius to have forgotten or gotten over his childhood. Not that Remus could talk; he’d never stopped being bitter about his bite, never gotten past it and lived to the full the way he’d seen other werewolves do.

Rare, but possible. He goes after Sirius.

It shouldn’t be a surprise to not find him in the garden, and yet it is. It shouldn’t be a surprise that he’s gone, and yet…

Remus doesn’t know where he’d go.

“PADFOOT!” He shouts into the air as though it’s a spell. “PADFOOT!”

Sirius doesn’t reappear. Had he apparated away? How, without a wand?

“Coward!” He spits at the air, although the word never had much effect on Sirius. His eyes light up with an idea. “Snake!”

“Slytherin snake! Black! Just like –

“DON’T!”

Sirius appears in front of him like, well like magic.

“I’M NOT LIKE THEM!”

“Aw, don’t you want your ‘proper family’ anymore?”

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”

“You’re so fucking childish.” Remus sneers.

“Then let me leave.” Sirius’ raises his hands as though to push him away, or cast a spell. Nothing happens.

Remus sets his jaw and turns away. He won’t beg, and he won’t admit that he wants Sirius to stay.

“Please.”

He doesn’t like that; he doesn’t want to _talk._ He wants to fight, to shout and scream and have Sirius scream back. He knows Sirius will get over being like his family – he always has before, however Remus won’t get over it. The last thing he wants is to be like Sirius’ family. But he can’t let him leave.

Coldly, Remus walks back inside and puts the kettle on. He doesn’t need to turn back to know that Sirius will still be there. He tilts his head and hears the soft footfalls as he’s followed back into the house.

“Sit down.” He says stiffly, taking the kettle off the plate. When he turns around again Sirius is on the floor, head down like a scolded child.

“I hated you, you know.” Remus says, sitting down opposite his friend and handing him a warm mug.

“At school?”

“I don’t know. School, after.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. But stay.”

“Can’t go anywhere.” Sirius mutters. “And everyone hates me. ‘Cept Harry, and that’s only because he doesn’t know any better.”

“Scared he’ll learn?”

Sirius shakes his head. “Who’s gonna tell him? You won’t. He wouldn’t take it from Snape. And everyone else is dead.”

“Do you hate me?” Remus doesn’t want to talk about Harry.

Sirius stays quiet for a long time, thinking.

“I think…I haven’t changed my opinion on you since school.”

“Stop being coy.” Remus snaps.

“Can’t help it. Don’t remember. Did I get better?”

“At being your own person? Yes. After fifth year.”

“Liar.”

“Sirius.” Remus sighs. “When have I _ever_ sugar-coated things for you?”

Sirius laughs, curling in on himself. Remus doesn’t press; he still wants a fight, he doesn’t want to see Sirius cry.

“You.” He starts, after a few minutes. “Are a fucking awful friend.”

Remus stays quiet.

“And,” Sirius continues, “I’ll stay until the next full moon. Then we run around a bit and without James there you can tear me up and afterwards we can pretend you and Moony are different.”

Remus doesn’t know how to respond. He can’t say thanks – there is nothing in that sentence to be thankful for, and with anyone else he’d argue the point about Moony – but Sirius has always known better.

“Until the day after.” He says finally. “And you can tell me why you _really_ sent Snape to the willow that night.”

He stands up and walks away before Sirius can reply. Just two more weeks and he can finally know.

And maybe then he can work on forgiving.

 

 

.

 

 

The full moon passes by and nothing changes. Sirius is there when Remus wakes up, slumped at the end of the bed in watch. Remus nudges his head with his knee and watches him startle awake.

“You alright?”

Remus shrugs. “Don’t remember much of it.” He should return the question, see if he hurt Sirius badly, but he can’t be bothered right now. Later.

Sirius follows him downstairs. He doesn’t help Remus set up the kettle – doesn’t act like Remus is terminal the way most people did on the mornings after. Annoyingly, Remus suspects he’d quite like it if Sirius did.

“I want your word.” Sirius starts before the kettle has whistled, startling Remus, who was used to the usual way of these confessionals. “That you won’t spend this whole day insulting my family.”

Remus considers this. “Fuck off.”

In the corner of his eye he can see Sirius tense for a fight. He smiles slowly.

“You want me to tell you something I’ve kept quiet about for twenty years, you can at least do one small thing.”

“I almost ate someone. I don’t owe you anything.”

“You don’t care that much about Snape’s life.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “Maybe I care about being a murderer. Did you even think?”

Sirius slumps back against the wall; meaning defeat but keeps his eyes locked with Remus’; meaning still in the game. Remus doesn’t like it – he keeps changing the rules.

“Please don’t call it abusive. Not until I’m finished.”

Remus nods, mouth twisting downward, but both of them note that he doesn’t say anything.

“It was kind of him.” Sirius says.

“Snape?” That makes _no_ sense.

“Ha! No, I mean my father. He kept saying he was being kind.”

Remus really, really wants to fight this statement; it’s almost too easy to pick holes in it. He can see why Sirius wanted him to keep quiet.

Sirius doesn’t let his stare falter, although he clearly wants to. “I had a cousin, Polonius, about nine years older than me. He used to. Touch me, tell me I was pretty on my knees. Nothing big, you know? I was heir so he couldn’t do much.”

Much. He couldn’t do much.

“My father found us in a cupboard once. I was, scared, I suppose? I thought I’d get in trouble for being weak. But nothing happened and then a few days later I was told Polonius was dead.”

“How –” Remus starts, but Sirius shakes his head.

“Then father put me in a room at the back of the house and Polonius was there. I thought he was an inferius at first. And then father said he was being kind.”

Remus takes a step closer to his friend. He’s starting to see where this is going.

“I think I was meant to take longer, or be more grateful, or something. But he said it was a kindness and I figure I just didn’t understand. Then in fifth year I saw you and Snape on the map and I thought you might be in trouble so I went down and you had Snape’s cock in your mouth.”

He’s breathing pretty heavily now. Remus feels sick.

“I thought he was hurting you.”

“When’d you realise it wasn’t…that?”

“You didn’t kill him. You didn’t even rip him up a little.”

“James got there first.”

Sirius looks suddenly angry, “Fuck off. If Moony had wanted him dead James wouldn’t have been able to stop it.”

Remus nodded. “I just wanted to get off with someone sometimes. And I didn’t want to get attached to anyone.”

“So you and Snape weren’t…”

Remus makes a face. “Snivillus? No. Fuck!”

“I worried sometimes that I’d ruined something.”

“Give me some credit Padfoot.”

They stand in silence for a bit; Remus recalibrating his world view. After a moment, he tries to take a sip of tea, only to find it’s gone cold. When did that happen? How long had Sirius been speaking?

After another stretch of silence, he asks, quietly so Sirius can pretend not to have heard him if he wants “How old were you? With your cousin.”

“Six or seven. I don’t really remember it.”

For once in his life, Remus doesn’t call him out on the lie. Instead he thinks for a long time of how to word his response.

“It wasn’t _kind_ to make you do it but killing that fuck might’ve been the only thing your father ever did right.”

Sirius barks a laugh, finally dropping his eyes from Remus’, and relaxing.

“I woulda. If you’d just wanted a quick fuck, I would’ve.”

Remus snorts. “Do you like that stuff then?”

“Boys?”

“Sex.”

“Oh. Not really. But I wouldn’t have minded, with one of you.”

Remus considers this. After a while he nods.

“I’d rather have killed Snape than raped you.”

“Wasn’t…” Sirius begins, out of instinct, mostly, “He never…”

“Sure.” Remus says sarcastically, then, unable to help himself, “Just like it was never abuse.”

Sirius smiles warmly at him. “Exactly. It doesn’t hurt anyone, does it?”

He’s desperate, Remus realises, feeling stupid for not seeing it sooner.

And, anyway, it’s been so long since he saw that smile. He can pretend, just for the rest of the war. They can deal with their issues when Voldemort’s dead.

He smiles back. “Stay?” This time, he softens the word, turns it into a request instead of an order.

Sirius licks his lips slowly, and swallows. “Please.”

You’re all I’ve got left. Neither of them have to say anything for it to be heard.

“I have to teach how to fight back again, don’t I?” Remus grins.

“Good job on the eye contact by the way.” He adds.

Sirius meets his again, still smiling, before, “You won’t tell Harry, will you? He knows about Snape, of course but you won’t tell him why, will you?”

“I can’t see it coming up in conversation.”

“Same old Moony, never tell a lie, never promise anything.”

Remus blinks a little, surprised Sirius is striking so early.

Sirius tilts his head to the side at the quiet. “Come on. ‘Same old Padfoot, keeping secrets, running away.’”

“I don’t want a fight.”

Sirius’ eyebrows rise. “That’s a new one.”

Remus shrugs, not sure what to say.

“Please, Moony, he’s bound to work out what I’m like soon enough but don’t tell him I’m…”

“Please don’t say weak Sirius. Only this is the first time I can remember where I don’t want to punch you.”

Sirius laughs.

Remus drops his mug and punches him. Sirius reacts instinctively and pushes them both backward. Remus’ back screams as he lands on the puddle of cold tea and shattered china.

They grapple for a bit, neither one sure what the fight is about.

Remus wins, for what it is, pushing Sirius into a cupboard door and jeering. His back still aches, and he can taste blood but considering moonfall was only hours ago…he shouldn’t have done this well. He drops his hold.

“You’re hurt.”

“You just punched me in the face.” Sirius croaks, sitting up.

“I’ll do it again if you don’t tell the truth.”

Sirius’ face scrunches in confusion. “Didn’t we just do that bit?”

“You’re hurt.” Remus grits out.

His face clears. “Oh, that. You just beat me around a little more than usual last night, is all. Nothing I haven’t had before.”

“Yeah, when you were young and healthy. Show me.”

“Last year.” Sirius mutters. “You wanted to kill me last year.”

It takes Remus a moment to work out what he’s getting at. “That wasn’t me, idiot. That was the wolfsbane.”

“Snape?”

Remus pulls at Sirius’ tunic, shaking his head, “Most, well all, of the people taking the potion are willing to take the risks; it stops us from wanting to kill people so we’ll take it but if we miss a night – like I did – the nights we didn’t let the wolf out catch up to us. I didn’t want to kill you, I’d just, well you know what it’s like being caged.”

“Do they know? The people brewing it?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. I never told anyone. Take this off, will you?”

Sirius raises his arms and allows Remus to pull the thing away. He winces at the gashes on his friend’s body. “Why aren’t you bleeding?”

“Freezing charm. Didn’t think we’d be rolling around on the –” He freezes, looking around, Remus rolls his eyes.

“It’s clean, you pillock.”

“Thanks.” Sirius grunts.

“Stay put. I’m getting my wand so I can fix you up. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Sirius has moved when he gets back; he’s grabbed a rag and started mopping up the tea. Remus rolls his eyes and vanishes the liquid. Sirius turns around and stares at him, wide-eyed.

Remus grabs a chair. “Sit.”

Sirius wavers but obeys. “If you make any dog jokes I’m leaving.”

Remus ignores him and instead casts a finite on the freezing charm. The sudden rush of blood flow should disgust him but just makes Moony rear his head hopefully. Remus swallows down his self-hatred and starts to work.

Remus traces his wand over an old scar – too straight to be accidental. He doesn’t say anything.

Sirius stays still for the patch-up job, doesn’t make any noise either.

Eventually, Remus can’t stand the silence any more. “You don’t really think you’re weak do you?”

“No,” Sirius spits out. “I think I’m a useless, greedy, pathetic, wasteful murderer and if I had any decency I’d walk out your door and leave you in peace.”

“You’ve tried that twice already.” Remus says, swallowing and trying to remember if those were his insults or someone else’s. “You should realise by now that I want you here.”

“You’re a good person.”

“Then why did I spend a year thinking you were a death eater and not telling anyone you could turn into a dog? Imagine if you had been! I could have gotten Harry killed because of my stupid pride.”

Sirius doesn’t answer. It’s clear that he has no excuse for Remus’ actions – because it’s clear that they were inexcusable.

“I’m no better than you Padfoot, and we both know it. We can console ourselves by being better than Peter but in the end, the only one of us who deserved to live was James.”

“He’d hex you silly if he heard you say that.”

“Luckily, James is de-” He freezes, the sentence catching up to him, and hates himself. Sirius lets out an impressively bitter laugh.

But then he smiles at Remus, soft and sweet, and for a heartbeat Remus feels like everything will be ok.

And then it’s over and they’re grey and old and sitting in the too small kitchen being jealous of their dead best friend. And the war’s started up again.

The war’s started up again. What was it Remus had thought earlier? That they could shelve their issues until Voldemort was dead? Until Harry was safe? Sirius would agree with that. He opens his mouth to speak.

“C’mon.” Sirius says, perhaps sensing change, “We should start contacting the order before Dumbledore notices we’ve not done anything.”

Remus leaves it. They’ve got time.


End file.
